Page 133 of His True North (Shattered Cove 5)

Charli bit back the bittersweet tears. “Finn wanted to name him Jamison. I think we’ll go with that. Jamison Finnegan Reed.”

“Strong name. Suits him.” Belle squeezed her shoulder. “He’s really quite healthy. The concerns when they’re born this early are his fragile immune system and the potential of infection. With the lack of fat stores, he isn’t quite able to regulate his body temperature yet. And his ability to suck, swallow, and breathe will take some time.”

“But he’s okay?”

“Yes. Five pounds four ounces of perfection.”

Charli leaned closer, trying to memorize his little, pink rosebud lips and the dark swirls of hair matted to the top of his head. She inhaled his sweet scent—a complete contrast to the sterile hospital room. This moment was supposed to be so different. Finn was going to hold her hand and they were going to greet this tiny human together. But that isn’t what happened. Not even close.

Belle’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out as Charli ran her thumb over her son’s arm.

“I’m here, buddy. You’re doing so amazing. You’re a fighter, just like your daddy.” Saltwater pain leaked down her face. Surely by now she’d have run dry of tears. But that wasn’t the case.

“Bently is outside. He’d like to talk to you about Finn.”

Charli shook her head. No. If he said the words, it would be the last nail in the coffin. She wasn’t ready for her loss to be so final.

“Okay. Take as long as you need,” Belle said.

* * *

An hour later, Charli shifted in the bed and winced. Belle placed her hand over her shoulder. “You should get some rest. You won’t be any good to Jamison if you don’t take care of yourself. He won’t be alone. We’ll all make sure of it.”

Charli nodded, knowing her friend was right. Belle had her bed pushed back down the hall.

Bently was waiting outside her room, leaning against the wall with dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. His head snapped to them as she was wheeled into the room. Sharp stabbing pains flashed through her abdomen. She hissed.

“I’ll give you a little more pain medication if the doctor okays it.” Belle situated her IV bags.

“Finn—” Bently started.

“I don’t—please don’t say the words. Don’t tell me he’s gone. I can’t take it right now.” Charli squeezed her eyes shut as if that would close out the pain that engulfed her physically, and emotionally saturated every cell. Grief-stricken and raw, she just wanted to escape for a little while. Go somewhere where she didn’t have to feel anything.

“But he’s alive,” Bently argued.

“I said—what?” Her eyes snapped open.

“Finn’s alive, Charli. He’s in the ICU. That metal plate from his accident? It saved his life.”

Chills skated across her skin as she shook her head in disbelief—afraid to hope, to believe that Finn was truly still here. “He’s alive?”

“You thought he died?” Belle asked, shock clear in her voice.

“The surgeon came into the waiting room and . . .”

“Stewart died on the table,” Bently clarified.

“Oh my god.” She clasped a hand to her mouth as a sob broke free. Tears streamed freely down her face as sweet, golden hope swept over her like a tidal wave. She couldn’t catch her breath, each burst of oxygen tugging on her incision brutally. But Finn is alive!

Belle wrapped her arms around her. “Oh, sweetheart. Deep breaths.”

“I want to see him.”

“You just got back in here. Rest, and then we’ll make it happen,” Bently promised her.

“The doctor wanted to talk to you about his condition. And they won’t let us wheel you into the ICU. You’ll have to have the catheter removed and be able to walk before we put you in a wheelchair,” Belle said.

* * *

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